Found Wanting
by Sirius Lee In Love
Summary: War has been raging for eight years now, and has hardened the Order of the Phoenix into soldiers with little hope. But can two people - both with complex pasts - in their experiences of love, turmoil, and death - make a future? SiHr
1. Default Chapter

**Summary: **War has been raging for eight years now, and has hardened the Order of the Phoenix into soldiers with little hope. But can two people – one who cannot remember their past, and one desperately trying to forget it - in their experiences of love, turmoil, and death - make a future? Si/Hr

**Main Characters: **Sirius Black/Benjamin Smith, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley.

**Pairings: **Sirius/Hermione, Draco/Ginny

**Rating**: R – Sex, language, violence 

**Found Wanting**

**Chapter 1: Found**

It was nine-thirty in the morning, and the sun was struggling through the dreary London clouds. Hermione Granger hastily made her way through the early crowd, knowing that she was already late for work and still had not gotten her daily breakfast. Her retail job at the _Finishing the End_ bookstore could wait for the moment – she was horribly hungry.

Hermione, now a twenty-three year old young woman, had quickly discovered how simple it was to fall into a tedious routine of food, work, food, sleep, repeat. Her life as a shell of a human floating day after day, week after week through the world and doing her best to forget was not going as well as planned.

She had hoped, that perhaps, when she left, it would be over soon. Her friends would win the war, and she could settle down and have a family in the Muggle world she had receded to. She could then tell her children stories about her magical past, but how she had to give it up because of fear and apprehension of the unpredictable future.

Well, she didn't _have_ to give it up. No, not at all – she had wholly chosen to do so. A decision made in a moment of frightened haste – but had it been the right one?

Had it been regrettable?

_ Ah, but it can't be regrettable if it's not permanent,_ her mind mused.

_ But it _is_ permanent, _she thought back, fiercely and defensively. But whenever she thought this, she had the undeniable feeling of falseness about the sentence.

Her head still hadn't cleared enough in her two-year absence to answer that question.

Upon entering the _Seasonal Tryst Cafe_, Hermione's nostrils detected the unique aroma of coffee and pastries as she made her way towards the counter. Digging through the contents of her coat pocket to retrieve the exact amount of change needed for her soon-to-be purchase, she continued walking until her shoe collided with the solid oak of the counter.

Eyes still downcast, she spoke hurriedly, "I'd like a French vanilla latte with one chocolate-" the brunette was cut-off abruptly as she ordered in her normal pace of voice, expecting Andre – her most frequent server – to be grinning and saying, "The usual."

But it was quite a different voice, with quite a different statement, from a very different man.

"Might have to repeat that for me, miss. It's my first day here, and I'm not too quick with the orders yet."

With one hand paused inside the coat at the familiarity of the amused tone, golden brown eyes rose up to meet twinkling ebony orbs.

Black eyes that were framed by shapely brows, a strong nose, and full desirable lips that had not been known to her for eight years.

Nearly choking, her eyes widened. "_Sirius_?"

Clearly misunderstanding, the man with the dark red nametag reading 'Ben' frowned slightly, but the twinkle remained. "Yes, I'm serious. I'm new here, and I apologize for not being able to follow you at first."

This girl, as bonkers as she appeared to him at the moment, was absolutely enthralling. At their slightly close proximity, he could _feel_ something around her – a type of aura. It felt like electricity – no, not electricity – magnetism. He felt drawn to her as by an unknown force.

_ Just my luck, _he mused, plastic service smile on his face, _I fall for the crazy woman._

_ It's him – it's his voice. _His_ voice._ A sweet sound thought to be lost forever to the ears of mankind, and here it was, chiding her for rude behavior.

As the rational Hermione gave way to a confused and shocked one, thoughts clouded her mind. Had Sirius been alive all this time, thoroughly avoiding them? Just _why _had he been letting them drown in the painful ignorance of his whereabouts?

But if that were the case, and Sirius had merely been hiding from them, he would show a little more recognition at seeing Hermione's very familiar (although older) face. This man – whether he was Sirius or not – surely did not know her at all.

Mind clearing a bit, Hermione's cleverness overcame her as she sought out an efficient plan.

Replacing her shocked expression with one that gave the essence of sweet and calm, she grinned up at the man in front of her.

"Ben," she began, golden eyes flashing catchingly as she peeked behind her long lashes.

He arched an eyebrow (an act she recalled in a bittersweet sense, it being her favorite mannerism of Sirius) in response to her sudden mood swing, but smiled encouragingly for her to go on.

If anything, this abrupt change only allured Ben more. _She's so spontaneous and… varying in emotions. So… _different… _But, yet, not so sudden that she seems like a PMSing psycho woman. _

Latte forgotten completely, Hermione turned on what little female charm she had and offered the apron-wearing heartthrob a date.

He seemed a little surprised, but nonetheless pleased. _Not bad for a first day, hmm? _Grinned boldly, Ben quickly established himself as the experienced dater he was. "My shift ends at seven. Dinner?"

Doing her best to also appear nonchalant and practiced, Hermione did her best impression of a Marauder smirk. "I'll pick you up here, at seven."

With a final wink and a small push off of the counter, she exited the coffee shop, doing her best to hide her shaking body.

He was alive. She wasn't sure if she should have gotten involved in something like this, but he was _alive._

Ben hadn't even noticed that she never placed an order.

-------------------------

Hermione soon realized, as she sat at a vacant table in the back of the bookstore, that the second stage of emotion after such a surprise was doubt.

_ Maybe it wasn't Sirius at all._

Another thought chased after this one.

_ What if it was someone using polyjuice?_

Immediately following this absurd accusation, Hermione scowled. Who on earth would carry around one of Sirius Black's hairs for eight years after he died, just to work at a coffee shop?

A coffee shop that was a main part of her daily routine...

She shook her head, knowing that she wasn't as important as all that. Why would someone impersonate a dead friend to get to her? She wasn't of much use to anyone… not anymore. She couldn't be.

No, it was him, and she was sure of it. Although he didn't seem to remember his past, he had the exact expressions and actions as Sirius had. It had to be him.

But her paranoid self wouldn't forget the impostor of Mad-Eye Moody in her fourth year, and how no one had ever accused him of such a crime.

Despite the doubt now trampling over her excitement, Hermione couldn't help but take notice of the changes that had somehow taken place in Sirius. Physical changes, that is, besides the amnesia.

Surprisingly, aging was not one of these changes. If anything, Sirius looked much younger. How much more youthful, she was unsure of, but she did notice that his perpetual weariness and slightly creased skin were both gone. But, most noticeably missing, was the look in his eyes. They no longer appeared haunted, black and angry at his fate and past losses. No more did Sirius Black's eyes show the hell he had been through, the hell he had lived until they day he died.

And, more importantly, the hell he didn't deserve.

-------------------------

Moments later, as Hermione shuffled around some products, the shop still pitifully empty of customers, she decided that after making a final decision on who Ben really was (and if she was positive he was Black) she would speak with Albus Dumbledore… for the first time in two years. Before that, she had to be absolutely positive that this man's past was as incomplete as she was assuming it to be.

"Oi! Hermione!" called the voice of Celia, Hermione's annoying (and of course, muggle) co-worker.

Putting down a rather heavy stack of books, she turned her head in the direction of the yelping blond. "Yes?"

Celia swooped nearer to Hermione, her many bangles clinking unpleasantly, vividly reminding the young witch of her former Divination teacher. She had a nail file clutched tightly in one hand, making it obvious that the most work she did around the store involved her own personal manicures. And it wasn't like Hermione could complain to the management, or anything – Celia's aunt owned and managed the store.

"You have a visitor," she smiled, then lowered her voice a great deal. "Really cute, too! Think you can slip me his number?"

Hermione frowned at this news. A series of plausible candidates flooded her mind. The first had been Darren, her muggle boyfriend. But Celia had met him numerous times, and after weeks of Darren very pointedly turning down her unwanted affection, she had lost interest. No, this person was new to Celia – a fresh target.

Hope flared in Hermione's chest. Was it Sirius, early for their 'date'? But the hope diminished as quickly as it had surfaced. He didn't have even the slightest idea of where she worked.

So, more than likely, Celia's new interest didn't even have a phone number Hermione could 'slip'. This visitor was one of those she had left behind.

_ Why would one of them be here? _Hermione thought, not realizing how she classified her old friends as 'them' – like they were some diseased beggars she was ashamed to have ever associated with.

Without saying another word to the overexcited girl, she headed back towards the front of the store. There were bigger things to worry about than Celia's feelings and the keeping of the books. Things that were unfolding in front of her that she had never expected to be a part of again… or, she had _hoped_ not.

One of these things was currently running a pale hand down the spine of a cheesy romance novel, his back turned to her.

He somehow sensed her presence behind him and turned around, a calm smile on his face.

She knew this day would come. Had told herself numerous times that it wouldn't, but had still known it would. After all, she had merely _left_ – she certainly wasn't _hiding_. She still kept in touch… a few letters here and there. Although now, as the years had passed, the letters only contained names of those that had passed away in battle. Names that were not hers… almost telling her that they were dying in her place, because she had been too selfish to stay.

And now, those that remained fighting, those once closer to her than anyone else - had felt her return to the fight necessary.

A small smile graced her lips as she sensed his controlled anger towards her. _Ah, yes… they were angry. So was I… They didn't understand why I left – they still don't. Perhaps it would make them happy to hear that my leaving did nothing to improve my life whatsoever… I still know what I did, and I'm still capable of repeating it. That is, after all, why he's here right now. So that I do it again…_

Smile still faint but visible, she nodded. "Draco."

-------------------------

**A/N: **Sorry it was short – I always manage to make them a little brief in the first chapter. Most chapters will definitely average at _least_ 2000 words, so don't worry. Also, if you've read my other story (_I Want the Fire Back_) you may notice some similarities. So don't start talking about how odd it is that Hermione always has a horrid past in my stories, or how Sirius comes to make it all better. This story is a lot different than my last – this one is much more dark, more cynical – much more mature. These people have been in the midst of a war since they were teens – it calls for a darker tone.

Oh, and, this _is _a Sirius/Hermione story - so please don't complain about Darren, and don't get any ideas about our lovely Draco and her, especially in the next chapter. Alright?

Please review! 


	2. Snapping Dragon

**Summary: **War has been raging for eight years now, and has hardened the Order of the Phoenix into soldiers with little hope. But can two people – one who cannot remember their past, and one desperately trying to forget it - in their experiences of love, turmoil, and death - make a future? Si/Hr

**Main Characters: **Sirius Black/Benjamin Smith, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley.

**Pairings: **Sirius/Hermione, Draco/Ginny

**Rating**: R – Sex, language, violence 

**Kneazle: **Thanks for the review! I'm very happy with your enthusiasm about this fic. Greatly appreciated! And about the details of SiriBen (that's what I've gone to calling him in my head) looking so much younger… Well, I don't know if that will be revealed _soon_ soon… but fairly soon.

**LinNicole:** You were my very first reviewer! Yay! Now, I just hope this story goes at _least_ as well as my last, then you can be proud about your status. Hehe. Oh yes, explanations – I _know_, what the _hell_ is going on? Haha, well it'll all be explained in due time.

**Ashlie: **Thanks for the review! I hope you continue to like it!

**Elizabeth Turner: **Haha, I missed your reviews... I always loved what you had to say, and I still do! Thanks!

**Madam Sorceress: **You're worried about the memory thing? You shouldn't be! Heh heh. Thanks!

**Peanut Gallery - Alaska's Own: **Aww, thanks! I hope it's good! And I'm glad you like Draco - he's in this whole chapter.

**Found Wanting**

**Chapter 2: Snapping Dragon **

"Hermione," Draco nodded back in cold politeness.

Relaxing slightly after realizing he wasn't going to immediately release his anger, Hermione motioned to the private office.

Draco followed her, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather coat. His ensemble was entirely black, and Hermione knew it was not because it brought out the paleness of his intense eyes. Black was the color of the times – the color of death, of war. She remembered it well.

Once the door was closed and the blinds drawn, she faced him again.

"How'd you find me?"

Hands still invisible beneath the leather (his left one clutching his wand, she was sure), Draco's silver eyes gave off a faint hint of amusement.

"It's not horribly difficult to find someone who isn't actually hiding."

Hermione sighed in understanding, annoyed that he could still read her so accurately. "I knew you'd find me. You have got Dumbledore on your side, after all," she added, referring to the old man and his seemingly all-knowing nature.

"Oh, so _I _have Dumbledore on my side, and not you? Joined the Death Eaters, have you?" his eyes flashed indignantly.

"You know that's not what I meant," Hermione spoke quietly. She should have known Draco couldn't hold in his temper for too great an amount of time.

"No, Hermione – no one knows what you mean. _Two bloody years! _Hardly any correspondence at all! Did you just stop _caring_ about us?"

With a sudden cold resolution, Hermione met his eyes. "Yes."

Without pausing a moment, Draco snorted with disbelief. "Liar."

Looking into her cold gaze, he steeled himself. "Harry's dead. Practically threw himself on Voldemort's wand…"

Hermione gasped involuntarily as tears filled her eyes, clouding her vision. "Liar!" she echoed fiercely.

Draco, slightly pleased upon seeing her angst, quelled his anger momentarily. "Yes, we both are."

Holding in a great sigh of relief, Hermione turned around quickly to cast a silencing charm on the room as Draco took the moment to observe her appearance.

She was clad in dark blue jeans and a simple white top. Her eyes were lined darkly, giving her a smoldering look, as her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail to stay away from her face while categorizing books and the likes.

Basically, she looked the exact same to Draco… despite the color changes in her clothes. Too bright for their world now. He wondered briefly if she even knew why she wore her makeup that way… so dark. Granger wasn't one for the sexy look, and he was absolutely positive it had to do with her dark past.

And now, her dark future.

Fidgeting with her wand in her hands, having finished the spell, she now stood watching the Malfoy watch _her_. Not one to be outdone, she piercingly gazed at her old friend, scrutinizing all changes that had taken place in him.

Draco had let his hair grow to his prominent jaw, and his build seemed more lean than usual. His eyes seemed older, even as the rest of him remained young. She wondered concisely if her own eyes appeared that way… prematurely old. Why wouldn't they? She had seen nearly as much death and carnage as Draco himself.

"So why _did_ you leave?" he asked, seating himself at the desk and pulling his right hand from his pocket to lay it casually on the shiny wooden surface.

Hermione resisted the urge to grin at his utter need to be near his wand. It wasn't that he had no trust for her – it was that he had grown to know her too well. And one thing he had come to know, was that at times, Hermione Granger could be slightly unpredictable.

"It gets old after a while… watching people die." She spoke quietly, staring submissively at the floor, knowing what she was saying was cold hearted and sick. But, despite that, she had always felt that she could express those types of feelings with Draco… Those feelings that you have, but you won't dare tell _anyone_, because you know how wrong it is to have them.

"So you left them to die alone?" he asked, brow raised.

Avoiding the question, Hermione asked one of her own. "Didn't you ever just want to leave?"

And to her surprise, he laughed heartily. "Of course!"

"Then why didn't you?"

Draco stopped laughing, tilting his head to the side. "I'm not strong enough."

Hermione snorted. "Not _strong_ enough to _run away_?"  
Draco's eyes turned clearer, and he gazed at her as if trying to see into her mind. "No. Not strong enough to abandon my friends as they wait their turn to die."

"Fuck you," she spat upon reflex, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Draco chuckled at this. "Did you think I came by for a chat to catch up on good times? Not that there _are_ any good times… Anyways. You know what I came for."

As her anger fizzled out, she nodded slowly. "To take me back to that hell."

He chuckled again, his right hand now tapping rhythmically on the desk top, silver eyes boring into her. "That _hell_ is where you belong. Not in this dingy little ignorant shit hole. You are magic. Magic is you. You don't belong here."

At the intensity and truth of his words, Hermione sat, too scared and angry to acknowledge his being right.

Grinning, the silvery blond spoke coldly, truly enjoying his next words. "How do you like that, Hermione Granger? I'm bringing you back to the hell you belong in."

Her brown eyes now blank as she flinched at his statement, she whispered. "I don't have to go back."

Draco, knowing that she was not merely uttering some sort of half whispered prayer, but an absolute vow of determination, was about to stand and roar, "I will bloody _make_ you go back!" But, after years of watching the red-tempered Weasel, he knew of its ineffectiveness.

Instead, Draco unsheathed his wand and stood, walking towards the door. "I can kill her."

Taken aback, Hermione's eyes widened. "Who?"

"Her," he motioned past the exit. "That annoying brat that I talked to."

If he hadn't appeared so 'Angel of Death'-ish in his leather coat and pale features, Hermione would have laughed at his description of Celia.

"You wouldn't," she glared, even as she knew that he very much would.

"Oh?" he spat the word out in a higher pitch than regular, once again almost sounding comical, but still appearing completely frightening. "And why wouldn't I? It's just one more casualty in the war, and to get back one of our best soldiers."

"I am _not_ a soldier!" Hermione cried at this. "I am a murderer! That's why I left! It was just so damn _easy_ taking people's lives, and I feared what would come of it – what I could become."

Although Hermione's eyes were shining with tears at this supposed great revelation, Draco snickered. "What? You think you're going to become the next Dark Lord? Jesus, you're a bitch but you're not _that _big of a bitch!" Her began full-on laughing now, eyes crinkled in mirth.

Completely flabbergasted, she yelled. "I'm a _murderer_! Do you _know_ what that is?"

Calming himself, Draco looked nonchalantly at a fingernail as he sat down on top of the desk, crossing his legs. "I've only been raised by one, Granger. Get with the program." He looked up to see her glaring, and decided that she wasn't going to drop the murdering issue so easily. "That's what war is – murder and killing. Soldier's just a pretty name for it… like 'Lady of the Night' for a whore." He seemed very pleased with this analogy. Then, almost thoughtfully, he added, "Sometimes I wonder how you ever got to be in Gryffindor at all. You're not as brave as all the rest."

Hermione bristled at this, and Draco, hoping to get a glimpse of his old fiery friend, plowed forward. "You couldn't have been a Hufflepuff, either – that's for sure. They're loyal as hell!"  
Out of pure, uncontrolled, frustrated anger, Hermione cracked, pointing her wand at him and screaming, "I hate you!" The cry contained every emotion brought back to her from Draco's renewed presence in her life. She felt as she had the day she left; numb, sick of crying and just wanting to get the hell away from any more of the everyday horror.

Death. She had caused death. The same thing that took her best friend's parents away from him as a child. The same thing that had taken away Sirius. _She had caused death._

Although no spell had been spoken, Hermione's cry of hate and the pointing of her wand sent Draco flying off of the desk into the wall behind him. He broke part of the drywall upon impact, and landed on the floor, his own wand still clutched tightly.

"And I hate you!" he yelled back, all of the anger from her abandonment two years ago sending Hermione into the office window. The glass was thick, and therefore did not break, but cracked heavily upon her weight.

Outside, Celia did not notice, for she had taken another lunch break out of pure boredom, and was no longer in the building.

Draco stood first, knocking the chair out of his way to get to Hermione, who was just beginning to sit up. He calmly held a hand out to her, and without so much as a glare, she took the offer.

"But soon we'll love each other again, as always."

And as Hermione stood, she knew, _as always_, that he was right. Their relationship (once one had been established) was, and always would be, a sort of love/hate. They went from one extreme to another, and neither disliked it nor wanted it to change. It was just how it was.

Harry had a similar relationship with Draco – they respected one another greatly, both for different reasons – but they still managed to have their moments. Draco was colder and more selfish, whereas Harry was kinder and generous. This often led to conflict.

Ron… well, Ron _tolerated _the cynical blond, mainly for Harry and Hermione's sake. He did his best to avoid Draco, considering they were fighting on the same side now, and Ron's cry of 'Death Eater boy!' was no longer as effective or entertaining as it used to be.

Last but not least in her opinion about Draco, was Ginny. After he had stopped calling her 'Femme Weasel' and taunting her about her freckles in 6th year, she had began to admire the boy for his calm attitude and snippy remarks. And now, admiration had perhaps turned into a tad more. Ginny Weasley was head over heels for the Malfoy, and was positive it was not some silly little girl crush alike to the one she had on Harry. She was in love, and had no intention of acting on it. Being in love meant that when someone died, someone else was too hurt to go on. It was too risky – better to stay unrequited than drowning in despair.

Draco moved to pull Hermione through the door, but she resisted with a small tug of her arm. He looked at her questioningly. He had, of course, expected to bring her to Grimmauld Place at once – willing or unwilling.

"I have something to do tonight." At his doubtful look, she gave more of an explanation whilst trying to remain as secretive as possible. "I might be able to bring something other than just myself into this war."

Draco raised both eyebrows. "And this would be what, exactly?"

Hermione only shook her head in response, denying him any further information on the enigmatic subject. "Can you get me a meeting with Dumbledore tonight? Around midnight?"

Draco, doing his best to trust the woman before him, nodded curtly, and gave her a look that clearly said, "If you don't show, I'm coming for you," before apparating. Hermione was still unsure as to whether the others wanted her to return, or if it was merely Draco telling them all that she must come back to the fight. It was more than likely the latter, considering the vast amount of anger the rest of them held for her. More anger and disappointment than she was sure she could face.

And now, as she looked at the clock in the messy office, she cursed, realizing that she had 13 minutes to get cleaned up from an argument with one friend and to get ready for her 'date' with an amnesiac who may be another friend's long-dead godfather.

_Bloody fucking hell_.

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**A/N: **I know there was a _major_ lack of SiriBen in this chapter, but I had to explain things and show you the unique relationship between Malfoy and Granger. So, next chapter is full of SiriBen! Don't worry!

Review please!


	3. An Old Friend's Advice to Another Friend

**Summary: **War has been raging for eight years now, and has hardened the Order of the Phoenix into soldiers with little hope. But can two people – one who cannot remember their past, and one desperately trying to forget it - in their experiences of love, turmoil, and death - make a future? Si/Hr

**Main Characters: **Sirius Black/Benjamin Smith, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley.

**Pairings: **Sirius/Hermione, Draco/Ginny

**Rating**: R – Sex, language, violence

**Found Wanting **

**Chapter 3: An Old Friend's Advice to Another Friend**

Eight years ago, Ben had woken up in a hospital bed, seemingly unhurt and perfectly healthy. But once the routine questions had begun to be asked, it was proven that this man was not perfectly healthy.

"Any family near here?"

"What's your name?"

"Do you have any allergies?"

"Where are you from?"

A blank stare with a small, almost unnoticeable shrug was the most intelligible answer they had managed to receive.

After many tests and even fewer answers, the mysterious man had been reluctantly released from the hospital, considering he had not been proven harmful to himself or others. One of the nurses there had dubbed him Ben Smith, and he kept the name as he wandered through the following years, working minimum wage jobs and moving from apartment to apartment. A few times he had been out on the streets, result of his need to constant change jobs and residence, and he had not had enough money for flat rent. He wasn't sure why, but he had a very distinct feeling that staying in one place, or exposing himself to too many people wouldn't be a good idea. He put it off as a shy instinct, and continued his odd lifestyle. Despite the lack of a résumé, the young man's charm and promise of good work led him into many employers trust… and more than a few's pants.

Ben soon found that his charm was not always good enough to get the job he desired – sometimes a little extra was needed to become employed by a lonely, working woman. And he happened to have plenty of that extra something – known as sexual stamina. Most of the woman had slobbish husbands who worked daily, came home, pumped her a few times, and collapsed unconscious on top of her, the beginnings of drool already evident. After getting used to this depressing and somewhat disgusting sex life, it was a thrilling and beautiful experience to have a young, experienced man like Ben lure you into bed. And, in return, only wanting some tedious little job at the restaurant she managed or owned.

Now, unbeknownst to him, his time had come. He had been thrown into the unknown, made strong again, and now faced his destiny.

----------------------------

Ben quickly finished up with his last customer of the day, running back to the employee bathroom and releasing what he had been holding in the last two hours. He took his apron off and rolled it up, tossing it to Alessandro on the way out, who grinned and thanked him. He had the next shift – the night shift, where most of the insomniacs around those parts came for their nightly dose of caffeine.

Slightly surprised, Ben realized that his date for that evening had already arrived, and was seated at a vacant table near the front of the store, near the door. He took in her appearance with a quick once-over, and noticed that she seemed slightly anxious, her appearance slightly ruffled. Since she had not seemed the type to be a nervous dater that morning, he frowned, wondering what could possibly be affecting the brunette so much.

"Hey –_" _he stopped abruptly as the fact hit him that he was unaware of the enigma's name.

Grinning slightly in greeting, Hermione blinked, realizing what vital information he was in need of. "Oh! Hermione! My name is Hermione."

The black-eyed man smiled, speaking her name, "Hermione."

Hermione slightly shivered at the way he spoke it, how each consonant rolled off of his tongue so smoothly, and not to mention the utterly sexy expression he wore while doing it. Mentally pinching herself, she decided that she was thoroughly attracted to her friend's godfather, but was also disturbed greatly by it.

"You're one of the very few who can say my name correctly," she smiled, hoping to get her mind off of the weird lust she was experiencing. She stood up, and Ben moved to open the door for her, also still smiling, although more aloofly.

"So, Chinese food sound good to you?"

----------------------------

Fifteen minutes later, the couple found themselves seated at a starkly white table in _Chow's Dragon Express_, both attempting to use those foreign instruments for eating, known as chopsticks. Hermione had more success than Ben, considering she was an avid lover of Chinese food, but her hands still weren't perfectly talented at the fine art. After many giggles and fallen food pieces, the two managed to use a type of shovel and dart method, that required quick hand movements before aforementioned food pieces could escape their fate and fall to the table below.

"So, Hermione," Ben began after succeeding in eating a whole piece of chicken without any mishaps, "What do you do for fun?"

"Hmm," the brunette paused for a moment, taking a small sip of her soft drink and contemplating her answer. She had been vastly surprised to discover how easy it was to be comfortable around Ben – he was just so damn charming and sociable! She remembered how very little she had gotten along with Sirius years ago – how she utterly loathed his immaturity… but, yet, how she still came to love and respect him, thinking of him as a genuine friend. But besides her obvious comfort with _Ben_, she remained nervous as hell as she thought constantly about how she would break the news to him. Could you even call the great important revelation of a lifetime _news…_?

Suddenly she gave a small, sharp laugh, buried pain and grief underlying its tones, but she herself took no notice. "I don't do much for fun – at least… not anymore."

Ben cocked an eyebrow, looking up from prodding his meal with the thin wooden stick to observe her stoic features, as she surveyed her small hand lying dormant on the table surface.

"Not anymore? Why's that? Did something happen that made you just kinda give up on enjoying life?" He said it with a small, playful smile, not even noticing how harsh his words sounded… and definitely not knowing how harshly true they were. But somehow, subconsciously perhaps, Ben felt that with that inquiry, he would come to know about her past a little more, perhaps even know what drove him so crazy about her.

_Why does she make me feel so… _much_? Every emotion she has, every expression she makes – I just… I _feel.

He had always been an empathetic person, but never to such a grand degree such as this. If only he knew that his empathy was so acute in her case because of his buried, caring nature towards this girl, and his past history with her.

"I just – something – dammit, Siri – _Ben_…" he frowned in confusion as she became flustered, dropping her chop sticks down and putting her head in her hands.

_He's not supposed to be making me confront and relive _my_ past. Sodding hell, how did this get so switched around?_

"Yes?" Ben searched her face for a sign or clue to her distress, when he caught a familiar shine in her eye. She _knew_ something – some tidbit of information, something that she felt she needed to tell him. She was nearly bursting with the rigorous effort of keeping this data inside, and he eagerly wanted to ease her burden, although more for his sake than her own. "Yes?" he pressed again, this time more urgently. After a near decade of never having answers, you begin to see the knowledge of things beyond you in another's eyes – you begin to see the things you never had the chance to know or see… you begin to see a whole world of answers – answers that may not apply to you, but were answers nonetheless.

Finally coming to the terms that she must face him and spill her hidden intentions, Hermione found it more difficult than had been anticipated. She had, in the little time spent with him, come to the conclusion that this man, was, without a doubt in her mind, Sirius Black. She had noticed the way all of his questions had been directed to aspects of the present or future, in case the question was directed right back to him in response. She had also noticed that his expressions and wit were a dead match to the precious Padfoot.

"Just tell me, woman," he whispered, commanding but nervous.

Looking up, she half lidded her golden eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to derive the best way to come out with her burden. She wasn't sure how to make it sound _believable…_

Finally, she decided on the easiest and simplest way, brought to her by a memory of Sirius one day, hanging around Grimmauld Place.

_Sirius was bored out of his mind, fluttering about (in a very manly way) the house, talking to whoever would listen, just for a little company. _

_He had subsequently stumbled across a pair of teenage girls sitting in a dark corner of the house, near one of the stairwells._

_Ginny and Hermione had both looked up after hearing his footsteps approach, ceasing their discussion and staring somewhat embarrassedly at the older person. Ginny's pale skin flushed vibrantly, remind Sirius viciously of Lily when she had gotten angry… mainly at the Marauders. _

_Smirking, the man's black eyes suddenly jumped back to life for the moment, "Why so guilty-looking, ladies? Anything I need to know?"_

_Ginny turned an even more vibrant shade of red, despite what science says is the human limit of blushing, and Hermione gave a small nervous cough. _

_"No!" the brunette of the two said quickly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "No, nothing-" _

_"Hermione, you're a horrible liar," Sirius tutted and shook his head disappointedly at her, causing her face to tinge red with anger and embarrassment._

_"I had a dream!" Ginny blurted, hoping to prevent Hermione from yelling at poor Sirius again. She never really understood why her friend felt so unkindly towards the sweet, innocent man._

_"What?" Sirius turned his attention to the redhead, a confused expression marring his features. _

_Ginny blushed, looking steadfastly at the floor. "A dream."_

_"Ah, well a lot of us dream. What was it about, love?"_

_Ginny barely surpassed a shudder at the innocent but sweet nickname. "I- I can't… say."_

_Sirius chuckled, leaning casually against the wall, crossing his ankles. Hermione grimaced sympathetically as she noticed the way his sweater hung off of his horribly thin frame. She really did like Sirius; she sometimes couldn't handle his arrogant statements and let her temper have its way, making her feel rather guilty afterwards._

_"Ginny," Sirius moved from his casual position on the wall to kneel down in front of the nerve-wracked teen, eyes level. "Sometimes, when you have something difficult to say… you just say it. Tell that inner doubting voice to shut the hell up, and just _say_ it." He flashed her a charming grin, still only a skeletal remain of what he was once capable of._

_Ginny, captivated by his honest words and the fact that he deemed her mature enough to cuss to, let her guts spill. "I kissed you."_

_Sirius was obviously taken aback for a moment, and gaped wordlessly and the girl nervously chewing her lip. Then, he laughed. "You kissed me in a dream? _That's _what you were embarrassed about?" _

_Ginny looked up, her dark blue eyes wide and shocked. "You mean – you don't, mind?"_

_Sirius chuckled again, "Of course not, love. It's your dream, isn't it?" _

_The youngest Weasley grinned shyly, nodding, as Sirius stood up, still smiling. Hermione and Ginny soon followed suit, dusting off their backsides as they made their way towards the staircase. _

_"Oh, and Ginny?" Sirius called after them, causing her to turn back around towards him. _

_Sirius took two full steps towards her, and gently kissed her on the cheek, causing her skin to flare up to match her hair. "Be a little more self-confident – you're a beautiful girl."_

_Since then, Hermione had held Sirius in a much higher respect, now fully aware of just how much he cared to make those around him happy. And on top of that, his advice seemed fairly logical – life was just too short to be blubbering on about embarrassment. _

Now, years later, she used this man's own advice to speak to him, "I know who you are, Ben. Who you _really_ are – I know who you used to be."

_Don't get your hopes up, she could be some random loony! _Ben thought as he stared at the woman, contemplating her. But he knew she wasn't some loony. She was something else, something different, for sure.

He asked the one question that had burned in his mind for so exceedingly long, the one question no person should be denied an answer to.

_I just want to hear it, please – God, please… _

"What's my name?"

Hermione was preparing herself to utter the one statement that the man in front of her seemed to crave more than anything, but something had managed to catch her eye.

It was her boyfriend, Darren, and he was entering the restaurant with a slightly angered expression. She should have known not to bring Ben to one of her and her lover's most frequent stops. Knowing how jealous Darren could become, she quickly stood up, motioning for Ben to stay put and patient.

"What are you doing here, 'Mione, and who is that guy?"

Hermione merely shook her head, grabbing the blond's hand and pulling him back out the way he had come in.

"Darren," she began, but immediately was at a loss as to what to say. She desperately wished for some of her cleverness from that morning to return, but after a few silent moments decided that Draco had thoroughly knocked it out of her.

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks to the head - it didn't matter.

Whatever she said to Darren, whatever he thought about her and Ben, didn't have any relation to her life anymore.

"Darren, I'm leaving... for good." His eyes widened as he heard the words, and he prepared himself to begin yelling about her running away with another man, but she held a finger to his lips.

"Just _listen. _You're probably never going to see me again... Ah, I'm not one for dramatics..." She seemed almost giddy about the conversation, but all Darren noticed was her seemingly crazed babbling. "I'm not like you. I don't belong with you - hell, I don't belong in this _world_. I have something I need to do, and I've decided..." She paused here, wondering briefly if she could just turn back, call it a joke, and go back to normal. Ah, normal... Yes, she would go back to normal.

All of those years, and not once had she missed it. Not once had she _wanted _to go back. But that place had been where she had grown up, where she had loved, where she had killed... And now, she would die there. But more importantly, she was okay with it. Draco was right - she couldn't hide from what she was, what was in her very blood.

"I've decided to go home."

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**A/N:** Crappy, slow chapter – not dark enough, either. Don't worry, Hermione isn't all suddenly HAPPY DOO DAH - she's just beginning to suck it up. But the next chapter will be getting back into the mood of the story – Hermione takes Sirius to Grimmauld Place, and there are encounters for both. Just how have her friends changed in the past two years, and how has everything changed in the past eight years for Sirius?

Oh, and, NO, what Sirius said to Ginny does not make her fall all head over heels, giving her false hope and so on. She took it as a compliment, and Sirius only meant it that way – he was not hitting on fourteen-year-old Ginny. Haha.

**Review, and you shall VERY speedily (I already have that chapter written!) find out!**


	4. Scars, Differences, and Incredibility

**Summary: **War has been raging for eight years now, and has hardened the Order of the Phoenix into soldiers with little hope. But can two people – one who cannot remember their past, and one desperately trying to forget it - in their experiences of love, turmoil, and death - make a future? Si/Hr

**Main Characters: **Sirius Black/Benjamin Smith, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley.

**Pairings: **Sirius/Hermione, Draco/Ginny

**Rating**: R – Sex, language, violence

**DarkRaven-04: **Oh yeah, _much_ darker! Believe me. It'll be grand – just you watch. Er, and review! Hehe.

**Laicamiel: **Yeah, definitely poor SiriBen… Hehe… I really have to stop giggling benignly.

**Emmy says: **Oh, yeah, I've got me a fairly good reason as to why Sirius has been brought _back._ Heh. Yep yep.

**Peanut Gallery - Alaska's Own: **Yeah, I am entirely sick of calling him BEN, dammit.

**khuu-khuu: **I'm sorry I didn't fulfill your wishes of a Draco/Hermione/Sirius triangle. Lol.

**Found Wanting **

**Chapter 4: Scars, Differences, and Incredibility**

"What the hell are you talking about?" Darren snapped, observing his girlfriend with disbelief. "Are you trying to tell me… that the guy over there is some kind of ex-boyfriend, or something? And that you're going back to him…?"

Darren clearly did not understand. But how could he? His usually sensible woman stood in front of him, babbling about never seeing him again, and returning home. And to top all of that, she had this odd look in her eyes, like she was staring down some gorgeous but horribly deadly jungle cat. She looked sheerly determined, and if he weren't so angry, he'd be a little bit intrigued.

"Oh, Darren…" Hermione bit her lip, staring at him in a way that clearly showed as pity. "You can't understand – you never will…" The blond man before her, the epitome of an athletic, did not have the capacity to know _what_ she was. Dark, powerful... "Just… I'm leaving." She had tried to say sorry, but failed horribly. She had been through too much that day to care about anyone's feelings…

"The hell you are!" Darren growled as she turned around to head back into the restaurant, grabbing her arm in a steel grip.

Hermione whipped around, her eyes flashing in anger, causing Darren to release her arm quickly and look down for a moment, ashamed of his temper, before meeting those smoldering eyes. "'Mione…" he whispered, almost like a whimper. He didn't want to be alone, and he sure as hell didn't understand why he should be left alone.

Shaking her head slightly, Hermione felt the beginnings of tears behind her eyes. She was being so cruel to this man – the very same one who had unknowingly helped her fall into the monotony of a muggle life. Suddenly, with that thought, she realized that that was no reason to feel sorry for her treatment of this man.

Turning back towards the door, Hermione heard him take a sharp intake of breath, almost like she had physically slapped him, but she kept moving away steadily. She was going, not only away from her old life of lies and secrets, but to her future – Sirius awaited her, her old friends awaited her, and the War awaited her. Most not very promisng aspects, but they were what she was a part of.

"Come on," Hermione motioned to the dazed man still seated at a nearby table.

"What?" he looked up, utterly confused. "I thought you were going to tell me-"

But she said nothing as she grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the door and onto the sidewalk. Still in a daze, Ben mumbled, "We didn't pay for our food."

A string of Oriental curses followed them as Hermione increased their pace, quickly ducking down a nearby alley. It smelled of urine and alcohol, with a tinge of trash. It made her feel alive, being in that dark alley, holding the hand of the man with enchanting eyes. She had just run out on her boyfriend, and skipped the bill for dinner. But it didn't _matter_ – nothing as trivial as that would ever matter to her again.

Heart pounding, Hermione heard a loud clap of thunder nearby. Ben jumped, his nerves still on edge, but his dark eyes remained focused on her, a slight glare upon his face.

Almost wanting to chuckle at his impatience, she spoke, "Sirius! You're name is _Sirius._ Like the star. Sirius Lee Black." As she said this, she looked up at the sky in the falling darkness, but there were no visible stars.

"Sirius," he let his own name slip off of his tongue, much as he had done for his company's name prior.

Hermione was now running her hand against the rough surface of the brick wall, whispering to herself.

"Hermione!" she turned at the call of her name, to see Sirius walking nearer to her, a small smile on his face. "What else can you tell me? Tell me everything you know!"

Looking up again from an interesting crack in the wall, she tilted her head to the side, as if debating whether or not she could speak of such things.

"I… there's a lot to know," she gave a small laugh, before straightening her facial expressions. "And I know someone who can help."

Sirius gave her a long hard look, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He could barely comprehend anything, his emotions were on high, and his thoughts seemed slippery and hard to grasp. Another loud clap of thunder made him jump, but the woman in front of him merely relaxed against the wall, a calm expression on her face as the rain began drizzling down upon them.

"Come with me," she whispered, and despite his horridly disorientated state, he clearly saw how sensuous she looked at that moment. Her thin hand held out as an invitation, her eyes lined and smoldering, her clothes and hair already beginning to cling to her, and she looked so esoteric. Without noticing his own body dryness greatly decreasing, Sirius almost unknowing took her hand, and she pushed herself from the wall, removing something from her pocket.

The last thing he noticed was a bolt of lightning in the darkening sky before he felt his feet lift from solid ground and his vision darkened.

_I hope I don't splinch us,_ Hermione worried.

Her hope was answered as her feet made solid contact with the cold floors of Grimmauld Place, at the same time as Sirius.

She was instantly thankful that she had taken part of the safety percausions performed on Grimmauld Place. About five years ago, all members of the Phoenix had partook in spilling a drop of their blood upon it's floors, a dark and ancient spell, so that when apparating there, you remained safe from numerous traps. It had been darker than anything most of the Order had done that far, but it was a most drastic time.

Hermione was frustrated to realize that she had hours to go before her scheduled meeting with her former Headmaster. She was unsure as to how to walk around the House, probably quite full of Order members, without them noticing a dead man and a backstabber.

But before Hermione could begin to think of a plan, she heard footsteps coming from down the hall to her left. She quickly grabbed Sirius and shoved him into a nearby room that she knew to be a closet, and he obediently remained quiet, too stunned by the earlier display of what _had_ to be magic to really put up much of a fight.

_Please be Draco, please be Draco…_ she thought desperately as the footsteps finally rounded the corner.

It was Tonks.

Hermione froze, completely unprepared to deal with the people that she had betrayed two years ago.

Tonks' eyes widened for a moment, then she approached Hermione, her wand in her right hand. "You set off the alarm – we didn't expect you to arrive for a while yet."

Hermione stuttered. _Is Tonks treating me civilly? _"Er, yeah, sorry… Did Draco tell you…?"

Tonks gave an affirmative nod, and stepped a bit closer to the brunette, a small, much remembered and cherished, smile on her face. "Careful now, Mione. Those Death Eaters have gotten a little excited about slashing hexes." Hermione looked up in confusion, not understanding what her friend meant by that, and for a moment Tonks' face faded away to a similar one, but also completely different. It was covered in horrid scars, crisscrossing over her cheeks, forehead, and chin, marring her beautiful skin. Hermione gasped, stepping back a pace from the grotesque image, realizing that the woman must hide her old face due to the injuries. "Wouldn't wanna scar your pretty little face, would you?" Sneering, Tonks stepped around the startled brunette to continue walking the way she was headed.

She turned another corner, and from Hermione's location, she could hear Tonks come upon someone and begin speaking in hushed tones. Like a deer in headlights, the young Granger stood rooted to the spot, eyes in the direction of the voices. The other person was now heading that way.

_Damn it all!_

A flash of red hair rounded the corner now, mimicking Tonks' previous actions. Female – it was Ginny.

Her breath caught in her throat at her friend's change of appearances. Ginny was clothed in a black cloak, completely unfastened so that it trailed behind her. She had knee high leather boots on, with flat soles, and a simple black outfit underneath. She was dressed in what was considered the easiest to fight in – easy breathing, easy moving material. Her vivid red hair was long and tied back, her face paler and more weary than ever. But most noticeably to Hermione's gaze, was Ginny's left eye. Instead of her sapphire orb, she now had a murky white globe, all signs of a pupil or color long gone.

"So you've come back, have you?" Ginny spat, almost disgustedly as she stopped a few feet in front of the startled woman. Hermione flinched, not expecting to be so close so quickly. Her eyes automatically flicked to Ginny's right hand, clutching her wand resolutely. Somewhere in a residence of her mind that was not still processing her friend's vision problem, she realized that Ginny and Tonks had come from two separate directions, meeting around the same spot. They had been on a security inspection, of course.

"I suppose you've noticed my eye, now?" Ginny continued after realizing Hermione was not going to speak soon. She stepped even closer to the rigid brunette, fixing her left eye directly in front of Hermione's stare. "Go on and look." Hermione flinched openly at this, hissing air in through her clenched teeth. That eye, the absolute and indefinite blankness of it, seemed to somehow _see_ right through her. Almost as if it could look at her betrayal, like it was some physical specimen living inside of her, writhing and twisting and consuming her mind.

"Gin," Hermione whimpered, hurt atrociously by her friend's callousness, despite her expectations. She wanted to cry out desperately, 'Talk to me! Gossip! Giggle! Flip your hair over your shoulder and smile! Love me again!' but all she managed was a strangled sob. How many more horrible things had happened to the people she claimed to love while she traipsed around in the relatively safe muggle world?

Reaching a tentative and shaking hand to her pale friend's face, Ginny pulled away sharply in response, her one good eye sparking in anger.

"Just because you came back and you're feeling _sorry_ for us, Granger, does _not_ mean that I'm going to forgive you."

Pulling her hand back down and shaking her head, Hermione bit her lip. "I – I don't want you to forgive me." She gave a sudden cold bark of a laugh, Gryffindor courage flooding back into existence. "Christ, that's the last thing I want, Ginny. I know what I deserve, and I want what I deserve. I don't deserve your forgiveness." _Yet_, she added to herself in silent determination.

"Damn straight," Ginny snapped, irritated at how well Hermione was taking her rejection. But Ginny, despite years of hell, was not naturally an unkind or unresponsive person. She gave a small chuckle, covered in bitterness, as she locked eyes with her old friend. "You know what, Granger?"

Hermione tried to look interested, but most of her attention was praying that Ginny would someday again refer to her less formally.

"There's pretty much one difference between you and me…"

Hermione looked even more interested now, although she feared the surely cold and ruthless answer.

"I feel alone and tired… but…" Here Ginny averted her gaze for a moment, before bringing it back up, her voice merely a whisper. "I can't stop. No matter what, I know that I just can't stop."

Hermione nodded slightly as her stomach settled, the butterflies in it finally dispersing after becoming more comfortable with the rather unwanted confrontations. She was somehow aware that Ginny had not made mention of this to anyone else. "So I've heard," she whispered, referring to her previous meeting with the Malfoy.

Seemingly snapping from her emotional daze, Ginny shook her head and scowled again. "Oh just shut the fuck up! You can hear all you want, Granger, but you'll never understand. Ever."

Stepping back a bit in response to Ginny's temper, Hermione stumbled into the closet Sirius was hidden in. Seeing this as a sign of weakness, the redhead silently shook her head in disgust and walked away, boots thumping quietly on the floors.

"Christ…" Hermione whispered, rubbing her temples. This was all too much – and she had only met two of the many people from her past. "Shit… Fuck!" she swore, louder each time, releasing her built up anger, tears threatening to spill from her golden eyes. "I hate this," she moaned, furiously rubbing her eyes to rid them of the tears, knowing full well that she was smearing her make-up.

Anger fueling her shot and frayed nerves, she turned around and swung open the closet door, mumbling a quiet "Let's go," to it's occupant, and he once again, obediently followed. Sirius was too confused and unnerved to question any of her actions at the moment – after all, he had heard both rather unpleasant conversations take place, and was unsure about his place in the chaos around him.

Still, he couldn't help but ask, "Did I know them?"

Lost in her train of thought as she walked quickly down the dim hallway, she spoke, "Who?"

"Those women – the two you talked to."

"Yeah, you knew them. One of them is your cousin," Hermione's cold voice had softened at Sirius' innocent question. A pang of grief hit her as she recalled Sirius tumbling backwards into the veil, laughter written clearly upon his gaunt face, to the imminent _death_ that awaited him, by the hand of another cousin. _Not dead, Hermione – never dead. And Bellatrix will surely pay, now…_

_I have a family…_ Sirius thought, unaware of just how little his blood family actually meant to him.

Opening his mouth to shoot off more queries, Hermione quickly prevented him with, "Later, I promise," and continued her brisk pace to some unknown destination. She stopped abruptly, without warning, causing her partner to crash into her backside. Ignoring the incident, she turned around and whispered, "If anyone comes near us, I want you to keep your face down. _Don't look anyone in the eye_," she stressed the last sentence, knowing how easily one could detect Black from his gaze. No one had eyes alike in depth and darkness.

"Why?" he asked, slightly heatedly. He was sick of being so _secret_ – he had been unknown about for eight years, and he was bloody sick of it. He had thought tonight to be the end of that.

Sighing, Hermione decided that she was being unfair leaving him in the dark after years of being clueless. "I'm taking us to an old… mentor of sorts, to both of us. He'll know what to do. He'll know how to help." _Keep that up, Granger, and you'll almost start believing it._ "I just can't have anyone see you – they… well, they think you're _dead_."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but a newly revealed cloaked figure had exited out of a room down the hall, and was now closing the door quietly behind her.

Hermione tensed as she recognized her old Head of House, but was too nervous about her teacher's soon to be recognition to remember to remind Sirius to keep discrete. Sirius was also nervous about the confrontation, and too stubbornly curious to see if this woman would remember him, to keep his head down.

Turning away from the room, the professor made her way towards the couple that stood rooted with their feet to the floor. Frowning, McGonagall realized that the people ahead of her looked quite unfamiliar, yet at the same time, tremendously proverbial. Squinting behind her spectacles, her heart jumped at the sight she had focused on. One thought dead in the throes of battle, and one thought lost to the fear of death, stood before her, unscathed and unsure.

She paused, unsure as to how to handle this encounter.

Looking to Hermione for some explanation, she gave a brief account of what she knew so far. "This is, Professor, who you probably believe him to be – Sirius Black." McGonagall's hands clutched and un-clutched at her sides as she released a breath she had been unaware about holding. As an afterthought, Hermione quickly added, "But he doesn't remember who he is."

Nodding warily, the teacher took a shaky breath. _Things of this stature happen all the time, Minerva – don't be surprised that more than one of them happen annually in your presence. _"Well then… Let me be the first to welcome the _both_ of you back into the Order. Miss Granger," she nodded to her former pupil, but when her eyes strayed to the other, her gaze became teary as she whispered, "Mr. Black."

It took Sirius a moment to register with him that that was his name, from birth to supposed death, and he nodded apprehensively at the woman Hermione addressed as Professor.

A silent tear slipped down Minerva McGonagall's cheek as she recalled vivid memories of his life and numerous misfortunes. Hoping to God that this man was strong enough still to be re-exposed to his past, she offered him a teary smile. In a small way, she should have known that even the hand of the Reaper himself did not so easily affect Sirius Black. "I always knew you were bloody incredible, Black."

And it was true, in many ways. Years of mischief and disruption, rebelliousness, anger, and still overcoming it all to become a brave fighter on the side of good. Then, the most horrific betrayal, years of despair and loss, and surviving it still to become a small but satisfying part of his only remaining family's life.

That statement, was meant as not only an apology for years of mistrust - but also as a way of expressing her utmost respect and awe towards him, and more so an apology for ever believing him to be gone.

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**A/N: LAST _CRAPPY_ CHAPTER! I promise it'll get better now. I'll move it along faster and the such. Review please! **


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